


Sending an Honor Guard

by HeroHikara



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Assumptions, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Postmoogle Quests, Probably will have smut eventually, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, bad life choices, more tags as I think of them, not always romantic soulmates, not love letter though, not yet at least, political marriage mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:56:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroHikara/pseuds/HeroHikara
Summary: Soulmate AU Prompt: Everyone has the birthmark of their soulmate's name on their wrist, as you get older it becomes clearer until you can finally read it in your late teens.Hero always knew the name on his wrist was Garlean, at least, it looked Garlean enough. It just didn't have the middle bit that shows rank. He wouldn't have known if it was the Crown Prince or just a Janitor in a Castrum somewhere. It's a good thing his name is distinct enough for his soulmate to have found him first.OrIn which Zenos assigns the entirety of Castrum Centri to be his soulmate's honor guard because he can.





	1. The Name in the Report

“Hero, we need you to report to the Rising Stones.” Alphinaud sounded more than just concerned, there was a slight tremble to his soft tenor voice and the word ‘need’ was stressed as if it were a fisherman’s line seconds from snapping. “We think the Garleans are planning to march on Mor Dhona.”

The words hit like a Coerthan winter, freezing Hero’s whisk mid-stir while his chocolate ganache simmered before him. Suddenly the fear in Alphinaud’s voice made sense. It only took one look of abject horror in the direction of his assistant manager for Jacque to take over at the stove. “I’m sorry-” Running a bakery and being the Warrior of Light at the same time tended to create issues where he was pulled away from work with little to no warning.

Issues the Ishgardian chef seemed to shrug off without question, “Go be a Hero boss, I’ve got this covered.” Any other day Hero would have gotten after the crimson eyed Elezen for making a pun out of his name, but it was the furthest thing from his mind as Hero threw his apron at the wall and began to mumble his teleport spell. This was too dire for him to worry about jokes.

This might be war.

* * *

 

As the Hero rushed headlong into what he assumed to be danger, a pale hand traced the name written across his wrist with idle fascination. "I've finally found you." If he hadn't glanced over the reports of the Black Wolf's downfall, they might have never met. “Of course it would be someone like you, who better to challenge me?” Who better to be the soulmate of the Monster of Garlemald than the Eikon Slayer? The Savior of Savages himself. The Monster of Eorzea.

Zenos hadn’t even been sure it was a real name written on his wrist in the first place. The last name had been the only reason he spoke up to become viceroy of Doma. Hikara was a Doman name, but Hero? Hero was just a title, was it not? 

Not that it had mattered in the end, under the guise of rooting out the families of those who had supported the Doman uprising, Zenos had been unable to find the remaining members of the Hikara clan. The whole family vanished shortly after the uprising failed. The only one he found a record of was a conscript who had gone missing after a raid on his patrol route in Ala Mhigo back when Zenos was barely a toddler. A conscript lost during their attempt to “help” overthrow the old king before they conquered the nation for the Garlean Empire.

Before he had thought it a dead end. Dead soldiers sired no children. Now the pieces of the puzzle told a different story. The story of a Miqo’te warrior who became the hero to people of Eorzea. Mayhap his soulmate had no real name, he was the Hero of Eorzea and his last name was the only one that mattered. Either way he needed to make contact, to meet this soulmate. Zenos had thought this burning desire to know his soulmate had cooled into ash, but all it took was one report to rekindle the flame. So long as the name on Hikara’s wrist matched his own, else he would finally have to give up and admit that there was no one alive who was meant to be his.

Become the monster he’d grown into.

* * *

 

Hero teleports into the center of a brewing storm; there was a small troop standing in front of the tavern hiding the Rising Stones, surrounding them were adventurers and guards ready to die to protect the town and the scions in it. Meanwhile he could hear Alphinaud trying to keep the peace, “We told you already, he isn’t here.” They were prepared for another fight, last time most of the scions had been slaughtered or taken captive.

His response only served to agitate the  Centurio in front,  “Then we will not leave until you have produced the Warrior of Light, by command of-!”

“I’m back here.” Hero moved to stand on the platform surrounding the aetheryte, ready to draw his bow if needed. “What do you need of me?”

The ranks shuffled aside, giving their leader a path to walk down and clear view of the Miqo’te. “By the decree of the Crown Prince of Garlemald, we require the Hero, Hikara to bear his wrists for inspection. Once we have verified-”

“Okay! Back up! Hold on, what? Why?” For many people the name on their wrist was personal, he wasn’t the only one who wore wrappings on his arm to hide it. Lots of people did. It’s just most of them didn’t have a distinctly Garlean name on their wrist to hide. Well, Hero thought it was Garlean. There was only one issue with it.

“If you would allow me to finish.” 

With a roll of his eyes Hero nodded his head, “Go on then.”

“Once we have verified that the name on your wrist is the same as our Crown Prince, we are to protect you from potential assassins and danger until our prince arrives to meet his Soulmate.”

“You’ve got to be mental.” Yda- no, Lyse spoke up first, “One- there’s no way Hero has a Garlen Prince’s name on his arm, he would have told someone! Two, even if he does, what do you all think you can do to protect the warrior of light? Unless those masks make you resistant to being tempered or something.”

“Well, it is a Garlean name.” Hero’s ears went flat against his head, tail slipping between his legs as he began to unwind the bandages from his wrist. This was entirely too public, but people would judge him no matter what after this little display and if it kept the peace? He had to oblige. “But it’s missing the middle-part. You know, the title bit? So I don’t know if it belongs to a Prince or a bloody janitor. Does Zenos Galvus mean anything?” He offered his wrist to the  Centurio for the required inspection.

There was a cursory moment where Hero expected someone to shoot him, but wordlessly the officer stepped back and saluted him, the troop behind him following suit. “We are at your disposal, by decree of Crown Prince Zenos yae Galvus. The entirety of Castrum Centri is under your command.”

Words failed the bard, he kept reaching for something tangible to say and coming up empty. His mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air while the Miqo’te tried to process what just happened. Failing that, he tried to give Alphinaud a pleading look, begging to be rescued from this awkward moment with nothing but his ocean blue eyes.

Not that any of the scions were going to be help right now, most of them were looking back at him just as lost. No betrayal though, even Alisaie knew Hero was bad with names and worse with the names of people he hadn’t met. Alphinaud had suffered through Hero leaning over to ask him the names of people they were trying to get help from during the search for Cid’s airship. Every scion had at one point had a mildly odd nickname Hero called them until he learned their real name through hearing it often enough. Thancred’s was “Pretty Boy” or “Flirt,” Minfilia had been “Princess” or “Boss,” Alphinaud had been “Brat” and at one point became “World’s Worst Little Brother”. Of course Hero wouldn’t have remembered the name of the former emperor of Garlemald, Solus zos Galvus, or even the current emperor Varis zos Galvus.

Why would he ever realize that his soulmate was related?

“Hero, we should talk.” Finally Alphinaud spoke up, “Without your honor guard?”

The warrior of light nodded slowly, “Um- dismissed? Please? At least y’know, go back to the Castrum or something? I really don’t need bodyguards guys. Like I understand the risks and dangers but seriously? I’m fine. Just- go report back and next time please just send a messenger or something. Not a small invasion force?”

“I- of course. We will send a messenger for you once the Castrum is ready for your inspection.” Again they saluted him and with little fanfare marched back out of the town.

“Hero, let’s talk in the Solar, agreed?” Alphinaud saw the bitter looks of the other adventurers in the square, and Hero just knew he was mentally preparing himself to try and smooth this over with Slafborn and the Eorzean Alliance. He didn’t need the Echo to tell him that.

“Agreed.” He tried to walk calmly to the door, the other scions moving to flank him. Until he realized his Echo wasn’t alerting him to danger, Hero had no idea if they were trying to protect him or not. Lyse alone had sufficient cause to want to punch his face in. Once they were inside, Hero decided to speak first. A whine to his voice as he pleaded for mercy from his own friends, “Listen- I promise I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. Hero you couldn’t tell the difference between Teledji Adeledji and Lord Lolorito until one of them was dead, and even now you still second guess yourself when you’re trying to remember which one is still alive.” The young diplomat was massaging the bridge of his nose, trying to deal with the onslaught of a headache. “This is a disaster. A diplomatic nightmare.”

“Or a surprise boon. Think of it, Hero is the Warrior of Light. He is Eorzea’s champion.” Thancred crossed his arms, gazing at his fellow scion. “A marriage between him and the crown prince of Garlemald might be enough to stay the threat of invasion for a while. Maybe even the start of peace talks.”

“Or the moment they grant him citizenship he’ll be executed for treason.” Y’shtola took a seat at one of the tables, “We really don’t know what they’re planning now, do we?”

“Well they weren’t setting off my Echo in the square.” He frowns softly, “The Centurio was surprised, but sincere. I- I think they were actually assigned to be my honor guard. For real. Or at least confirm I existed.”

“I’m still trying to figure out why he’s trying to assign you an honor guard.” Lyse had finally joined Y’shtola in one of the chairs around the table. “You’ve fought your way through more Garlean Soldiers with a handful of elite adventurers than most resistance movements have during entire occupations. You can protect yourself, can’t you?”

“Odds are he’s trying to keep an eye on his soulmate to keep him from running away or doing something stupid.” Alisaie frowns and looks at her own wrist, “I know if I found out my soulmate risked his life for a living fighting gods I’d worry my head off.”

For a moment the older scions paused and glanced around at each other, of course one of the younger ones saw it before they did. If Urianger weren’t at the Waking Sands he’d likely weigh in as well. He’d lost his soulmate to Ascian machinations and briefly seemed to turn in cloak in an attempt to learn more about how to destroy the Paragons. When you had an army at your disposal, how else would you protect a loved one? The answer was embarrassingly simple in hindsight.

“So then Hero, what do you plan to do?” Alphinaud glanced over at his surrogate older brother, concern written in the frown on his lips.

“Meet my soulmate I guess?” He brought his wrist to his chest and traced the name slowly, “Maybe write him a letter? Dear asshole, the fuck were you thinking sending an army to my doorstep? Signed, Hero Hikara.” His words didn’t erase the frown on Lyse’s face, but it got a smirk from Y’shtola and a snort out of Thancred and Alisaie. Three out of five wasn’t bad.

“Hero he’s the Crown Prince of the empire and he doesn’t know you like we do, what if he takes offense?” Alphinaud refused to find the charm in it as well.

“Fine. Love, Hero Hikara. Better?”

“No.”

“I’m writing it anyway. Can I go back to my bakery yet?” He didn’t even wait for an answer before teleporting away, back to his kitchen, back to safety. Back to the familiar smell of sweetbreads and the murmur of a full shop of customers. This was too much to think about, he didn’t want to think about it, it’d be easier to lose himself in his work and just forget.


	2. Penpals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All day he had been plotting how best to address his soulmate.
> 
> As a child his father taught him three written languages, Hingan- which he claimed was basically Doman but more formal, Eorzean common, and an outsider’s grasp of Garlean. The third was barely enough for him to be able to translate the gist of a written missive, the second was his most practiced, but Hingan? He could still put the words to paper without struggling too much, and if his soulmate had to hire a translator to read the insults he planned to inscribe? All the better.
> 
> Hero considered himself a man of many things, petty was certainly one of them.
> 
> or
> 
> Hero and Zenos have become penpals because Alphinaud won't let Hero go to Garlean Territory and Varis probably won't let Zenos go to Eorzean Territory without an official truce or ceasefire on record.

There were times Hero listened to Alphinaud, following instructions like a tool to be used, letting the young Elezen apply him to whatever problem needed to be solved because Hero genuinely wanted to help solve those problems. There were other times he ignored the pleas of the young diplomat, choosing for himself which course of action was the best. Right now he was in a defiant mood. Hero sat down at his kitchen table in his small studio apartment, unpacking his calligraphy brush, ink, wax, and a small monogrammed seal Count Edmont had given him for his birthday last year with no small amount of mischievous glee. 

All day he had been plotting how best to address his soulmate; somewhere between discussing the debacle with his cousin H’melli while she was on break from manning the till and laughing as Jacque asked if his soulmate was compensating for something, Hero’d formed the response in his head. All he needed to do now was put it to paper. As a child his father taught him three written languages, Hingan- which he claimed was basically Doman but more formal, Eorzean common, and an outsider’s grasp of Garlean. The third was barely enough for him to be able to translate the gist of a written missive, the second was his most practiced, but Hingan? He could still put the words to paper without struggling too much, and if his soulmate had to hire a translator to read the insults he planned to inscribe? All the better.

Hero considered himself a man of many things, petty was certainly one of them.

Once the letter had been written, the parchment folded and the wax sealed the second half of his trial began. He had to find his secret treasure trove. Luckily the apartment was sparsely decorated for someone with his reputation, mostly because he hadn’t bothered to pay the interior decorator who designed his bakery to decorate it for him. Honestly it didn’t seem worth it for a place he only slept in half the time. Usually he was at the Rising Stones, an inn, or at the Fortemps manor when the mood struck him and he wanted to check in on his found family. In the grand scheme of things his apartment was just another place to rest his head and keep his most valuable possessions hidden away in the trunk by the foot of his bed.

Under the House Fortemps shield still wrapped in protective cloth and the trove of triple triad cards kept in a protective book, Hero stored two different bags filled with kupo nuts. The purple bag had Gridanian grown kupo nuts he’d earned doing favors as an honorary Postmoogle, the blue bag had Dravanian grown kupo nuts he’d earned by bribing the Moogles of Moghome with things they could use to prank their friends. Helping the Postmoogles had been the best poor life choice Hero had ever made. He didn’t eat the nuts, the last time he tried it’d made him ill for a night, instead he stored them for when he needed to bribe someone to deliver mail for him. The Postmoogle in Mor Dhona being his favorite target.

“Aw c’mon Pukla, five. Five plump kupo nuts just for delivering a letter to my soulmate. You don’t even have to carry anything heavy, it’s just a letter. Odds are he won’t even see you, I mean, you’re the stealthiest Moogle anyone’s ever not-seen, right?” The bard had been reduced to haggling, batting his lashes and pouting like a child. “Please Pukla, for me? You know I’m good for it.”

“You expect me to go to Ala Mhigo, in the middle of the palace, to the Garlean Prince, for five kupo nuts? I want six, kupo.” She wiggled her little arms, pom bouncing with every exaggerated motion. “Three now and three after. Four if I’m caught, kupo.”

Six wouldn’t break his bank, he’d been picking up odd jobs for the Postmoogles for months now, but it was a bit much for just a single letter. “Five, three now and two later.” He crossed his arms and smiled, “Just for you though? The two will both be Dravanian kupo nuts from Moghome.” The way her pom perked gave away the answer before she’d even spoken. He was one of the few reliable sources of Moghome kupo nuts in the Postmoogle ranks.

“You have a deal, Kupo! For one more I’ll even throw in return-mail service!” She gave a little twirl but Hero shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll let him figure out how to send a letter back to me.” He dug three nuts from his bag and handed them over with the letter. “Just take it to him and skedaddle, kay Pukla?”

* * *

 

In his chambers Zenos hummed softly, stroking the parchment ink with a faint smile. “Dear Horse’s Ass,” the letter had appeared on his bed while he’d been in the bath and already it was worth more to him than any missive he’d received all day. “Was it necessary to send an army to my doorstep, or were you just trying to assure me your member is truly that large? Love, Hero Hikara.”

A low chuckle left his lips, the brief letter was rude, tactless, and utterly charming. His soulmate cared not about putting on a face, meaningless platitudes, or even social graces. He was honest and to the point. No bowing or scraping to be found here, it was refreshing. A cool glass of water after a hot patrol through the dusty sands of this forsaken post. 

Either his soulmate was unaware of his reputation or he simply did not care and had no fear of the Prince’s rumored cruelty. Zenos wasn’t entirely sure which he wanted more; a lover unaware of the monster in their bed or a lover who saw the monster and didn’t care either out of arrogance or confidence.

Maybe even trust.

Either way he pulled out his own stationary and ink from the recesses of his desk to pen a reply. The Hingan had clearly been meant as a challenge to him, unless the savior of Eorzea couldn’t read Eorzean common- which was highly doubtful. No, Hero had deliberately picked a language he wasn’t sure if Zenos could read, so he’d send a challenge of his own. The difference being unlike his soulmate, the prince would be considerate. 

How to explain himself though? Hero would know nothing of the nature of Garlean politics or the maneuvering that had gone into placing an entire Castrum in the hands of an enemy of the state. For a moment he paused, for as much as his intellect and tactical mind had been praised growing up, Zenos had not once been complimented on his people skills. How does one apologize for almost causing a political incident? Mayhap a gift was in order, or several. What did he know of this Hero Hikara?

He knew that if fate kind they may have a future together, him as Emperor of Garlemald and Hero as his confidant. He’d send something to prepare Hero for that future, and something more personal. According to reports his soulmate prefered the bow and could take down a Magitek Colossus with nothing but some well aimed arrows. Zenos stood to leave his chambers and bark orders to get a package prepared for his soulmate, in the meantime, he had a letter to write.

* * *

 

“A dictionary. He sent me a bloody Eorzean-to-Garlean dictionary.” True to their word, Castrum Centri had sent a single messenger to the Rising Stones this time. The poor man bore a letter from the prince tied to a large box wrapped in plain brown paper. The letter itself was written entirely in Garlean save his name and he knew it’d take him at least two cups of coffee and three bells to translate. The box, on the other hand, it was full of gifts. Oddly practical ones too. A fletching kit and quiver made to fit a Miqo’te, a massive pelt that had once belonged to some manner of beast Hero did not recognize immediately, and atop it all was a damned Garlean-Eorzean dictionary. Mocking him.

“He’s nothing if not doting, don’t you think?” Thancred gave each item a cursory glance, “He knows what your favored weapon is at least.”

“He ought to, I’ve left enough shafts in his soldiers-” Hero quickly glanced at the messenger still standing at attention beside his seat at the table, “Er, no offense?”

“Ah- none taken, ser?” The hyur hadn’t stopped saluting him either.

“You can relax you know, I’m not exactly a real commanding officer. I won’t get after you or anything like that.”

“I- of course ser, sorry ser, I just… I want to show you the respect to suit your station, ser.”

“Station?” The word made Thancred’s eyes narrow and Hero’s head tilt curiously, a single ear flicking as he re-folded the pelt and placed it back in the box.

“You are to be married to the crown prince, ser-”

“News to me, unless this letter is a marriage proposal. If it is, the dowry is a bit lacking. Unless the Castrum is part of it.” Hero’s arms folded as he leaned back in his chair, “He hasn’t asked me. I’m not too keen on being engaged to someone I haven’t met in person. I’d like to meet him before I mate him, so to speak.”

“You don’t understand, ser. Prince Zenos… He has a way of getting what he wants, doesn’t tolerate failure, if he’s treating you like his prince regent? Then he’s already decided to wed you, and will not take no for an answer.”

“Are you telling me he’ll force my hand? Even us savages in Eorzea require two vows to make a marriage.” Hero glanced at the gifts again, seeing them in a whole new light. “If he wants me he can meet me as an equal or not at all. I’m not for sale and I’m not just going to let him plant a flag on my ass and claim me for Garlemald. If he wants conquest he can go to Ul’dah and buy a whore, if he want me? He’ll have to earn it.”

“I- ser you can’t just-”

“Oh trust me I can.” Hero gave the other man a toothy grin, “Go on, sit down a while. Do you drink?” The messenger had barely given a nod before Hero was motioning for F’lhaminn to pour him a glass. “I’ll send him another letter once I’ve finished translating this one, but please. Tell me more about my soulmate?” The greatest gift Zenos had given Hero wasn’t in the box, it was the man who delivered it. With a drink he could charm information from the unwitting soldier, some of it might even be useful.

By the time the man had been excused to return to his duty station, Alphinaud had joined them and was now thumbing through the dictionary on Hero’s behalf, any time Hero spoke a word the other would give him the Eorzean equivalent. It was slow going but between Thancred, Alphinaud, and his rudimentary grasp of Garlean they managed to get at least a rough translation.

“To mine Hero of Eorzea,” already Hero hated this man and everything he stood for. His ears flicked while Hero made a face in disgust. “If he makes that pun to me in person? I’m punching him, royalty or not.”

“Keep going.” Alphinaud rolled his eyes, Zenos would learn quickly how much Hero hated jokes about his name being his title, or suffer the warrior’s wrath.

“Fine.” The raven haired bard cleared his throat and began again, “To mine Hero of Eorzea. In my haste to verify your identity I may have been a touch overzealous. The gifts I’ve sent are an apology for the trouble it caused. Presumably you would have only sent such a charming letter if my soldiers had caused some manner of unrest.”

“Hero please tell me you didn’t actually send him that insulting quip you made to me after the soldiers left.” To Alphinaud’s horror and Thancred’s amusement Hero only responded with a sheepish grin. “You are a diplomatic nightmare personified, do you know that? Don’t say anything, I know you know that. Just- continue.”

“The pelt is from a bear native to Ilsabard, their fur is one of the most suitable for the climate of my homeland, and if you do plan to see the capital at my side? I recommend having it turned into a coat to keep you warm. The quiver and fletching kit are more personal gifts, most reports mention you as a skilled marksman and I thought you may like them. The dictionary is, obviously, to help you read this letter. I figured I would be polite and give you a way to translate my letter, unlike some people, I can be considerate.”

“What does he mean by that?” Thancred arched an eyebrow as Hero read the words, “Was that meant as a barb?”

Hero knew damn well it was, “I sent my letter to him in Hingan.”

“Of course you did. I’m not even surprised.” Alphinaud groaned softly, Hero was like an older brother to him, but he was also a headache personified. “Keep going.”

“I will spare you the lengthy thought process behind putting an entire Castrum at your disposal. Most of it involves Garlean politics and making a public claim. The important part is that it may be the beginning of a truce between Garlemald and Eorzea if I can convince my father to entertain the idea of letting his heir travel to enemy territory to meet my soulmate in person. Consider this letter a formal request of courtship, so long as you agree to court me there is a basis for a truce between our nations. Else gifting you an entire Castrum is meaningless and borderline treason. Signed, Zenos yae Galvus.”

“A truce.” Alphinaud drew breath from between clenched teeth, mulling the possibility over in his head. “The Castrum wasn’t a bribe, it was a political movement to begin peace talks with Eorzea. This is far beyond the scope of our expectations, Hero-”

“Don’t even think about it, Alphie. I’m not political marriage material. He thinks because of my title that if we marry the Alliance will have no choice but to talk peace terms with Garlemald but that’s not how it works. The scions aren’t part of the Alliance, we have no actual political power.”

“If it leads to peace on terms that don’t involve surrender or bending the knee to the empire? The Alliance might go for it, Hero.” Alphinaud’s finger tapped at the table while he though, “I’ll see if we can arrange an Alliance meeting in Ul’dah, in the meantime? Thank him for the gifts, and please be polite this time.”

“I make no promises, if he’s really my soulmate he’ll like me for me. Even if I’m not always polite and well behaved. I’m his equal, well, I want to be. So I’ll act like it.” Hero took the box and the dictionary from the young diplomat, “I’ll sleep here tonight, tell me when the meeting is and I’ll show up. Night Alphie, Thancred…. My lady.” He bowed to F’lhaminn with a wink and went to his small room in the back to mull over a response to his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these nerds trying to get to know each other, making assumptions, mistakes, and poor choices. Warning: Coming chapters will include mentions of how soulmates doesn't always mean "person you're destined to marry/love" and a poor understanding of Garlean internal Politics that's likely to be thrown out the window once Shadowbringers drops!


	3. Plots Thicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every soulmate pair fell in love.
> 
> Most completed each other, yes, but how varied.
> 
> Or:
> 
> Varis employs the only person who wants to work under Zenos to spy on him- Asahi.

The reports he’d gotten from both Castrum Centri and the men assigned to keep an eye on his son warranted something stronger than the glass of wine he’d finished while reading them. Of course his son was making a preemptive strike, he would have done the same at Zenos’ age. Varis caught a glimpse of the name on his own wrist while reaching for the dark glass decanter he kept in his study, the mark had faded back into his natural skin tone but he could still read Regula Hydrus, plain as day. “You must be laughing in your grave, old friend.” His hand wrapped tight around the neck of the bottle, pouring a glass of what his wife would have teased as Magitek fuel were she not currently in another province playing nice with the locals. “I’ve no doubt you’d quip about how alike we are. That I made the same sort of risky maneuvers to keep you at my side. Except I could trust you, he knows naught of the Eikon Slayer except the name on his wrist.”

A sleepy meow drew his eye back to his desk mid-sip, one of the cats had slipped into the room and found itself a comfy spot on his paperwork. He knew the door was locked, odds were the old tomcat had come through the vent. No one needed to overhear the emperor talking to himself over his son’s mistakes. “Of course you’d show up to try and curry my favor in your master’s absence.” The cat was one of Zenos’ favorites, a kitten the boy had found in his youth and raised as an exercise in responsibility. 

Varis reached over to give him an affectionate head pat, “At least you’re less trouble than my son is. Time and time again I told him when he found his soulmate to come to me. We could have discussed this matter properly, what does he do instead? Ruins years of planning, concedes a foothold to the enemy, and leaves six different potential marriages ruined for the sake of a savage that can’t even bear heirs.”

Another sip burned down his throat as he used the tomcat as an audience for his ranting. “No foresight, no planning. I taught him better than this!” He taught his son many things, like how to root out spies in his midst. No doubt the ones reporting on his current actions had been left untouched just so Zenos wouldn’t have to personally pen the letter explaining his actions to his father. “He needs someone to caution him, but most men are loathe to advise for my son lest they draw his ire and be cut down. Where do I find an advisor that does not fear him?”

A notion struck him between his second and third drink, with the cat on his lap instead of his papers while he read over his other reports. There was a simple way to get an unwitting spy into his son’s ranks. He’d ask around about transfer requests to Zenos’ legions, interview them for motives, and the one who seemed the most suitable would get the transfer and be assigned as Zenos’ new advisor. In the meantime Varis could attempt to put out the proverbial garbage fires caused by his son’s little stunt.

Once the situation was back under his control and Varis found a way to turn it to his advantage they could discuss setting up a meeting between the two. Preferably in neutral territory. A bandage solution, but a quick fix was better than no fix at all.

* * *

 

“I will not lie to you, my son loathes mine attempts to find him suitable confidants and may seek to be rid of you. Show him how devoted you are and useful you could be to him, it may change his mind. In time he might even come to appreciate your counsel. All I ask is that you report back to me on how he’s doing. A father worries after all, and meeting one’s soulmate is no small thing.” A sweet lie was no less a lie, and the young man before him seemed too dim to even suspect he was being used. Either too dim, or too ambitious.

“Of course your Radiance. I am honored to be chosen to stand by the prince’s side in your name.” Asahi would have been honored to be under Zenos’ command in general. The prince was a shining example of why Garleans were superior to lesser beings. Powerful, dominating, intelligent, Zenos had it all. Rumor was the prince was beautiful as well. The peak of physical perfection. Asahi wanted to know him. Every inch of him. This promotion was just another step closer, and the savage soulmate was no true obstacle.

Not every soulmate pair fell in love.

Most completed each other, yes, but how varied. Mayhap the two were destined to be perfect rivals- always testing their strengths against each other. The name on Asahi’s own wrist was not someone he’d ever choose to love. A boy he’d competed with during his school years. A rival, someone to compare himself to and try to be better than. That alone was more than what a mindless beast of a man deserved to be for his perfect Lord Zenos. Lovers was unthinkable. No one else deserved to touch Zenos so casually, so intimately.

Why would a perfect man like Zenos have spared his pitiful life if not out of an unseen connection? Once he saw Asahi again this whole engagement fiasco would shrivel into dust and be forgotten.

* * *

 

“CID!” Oblivious to the machinations and politics at play, Hero burst through the door of the master mechanic’s workshop. With all the drama of a practiced bard, Hero threw himself over Cid’s work table, taking care to avoid anything sharp or messy. “Please check my Garlean for me?” Usually the Miqo’te wouldn’t bother him in his workshop; except he’d heard bickering from the door, and where there was bickering there was usually Nero tol Scaeva being a nuisance.

The response was immediate, “You expect Garlond to tutor you in language? Might as well hire a Lalafel to show you how to be tall.” Nero fell right into Hero’s trap, grabbing the papers without a moment’s hesitation. “He can barely write his own name without asking one of his subordinates to check the spelling.”

“Bloody liar, he asked me for help, not you.” The venom in Cid’s tone was biting, the silver haired mechanic growled as his fist curled, but his eyes caught Hero’s own first. A single wink was all it took for Cid to see through Hero’s ruse. The Miqo’te was playing distraction for him. “Bah- fine. You can play school marm all you want, see if I care.” He reached for his wrench as Hero slid off the table to approach Cid’s own soulmate- his perfect rival.

“Garlond.” The Miqo’te froze in place at the whisper that slipped between Nero’s lips, that tone was not one Hero associated with the usually boisterous blond. “Why is your Eikon Slayer writing letters to Prince Zenos?”

“Right, you were taking a trip to Azys Lla when it happened. Check his wrist for yourself, Nero.” Cid barely gave them a glance as he got back to inspecting his work.

“You’re joking.”

“You’re the one who tells me I have no sense of humor. I’m serious, Zenos gifted him Castrum Centri.”

“Bloody hell of a dowry.” Nero frowned more as he kept reading. “You write like a six year old trying to use the new big words in his vocabulary.”

“It’s my third language and I haven’t used it since I was nine. Bite me.” The bard’s arms crossed over his chest, “I learned enough to puzzle through a stolen missive, not court a damned prince.”

“You called him a presumptuous ass in the first sentence.”

“He knows what he did- and I called him a horse’s ass in my first letter so technically it’s an improvement.”

“Oh he is going to love you.” The taller mechanic rolled his eyes as he read through, “Garlond do you have a pen? I’m actually going to have to give him a damned writing lesson.”

“D’you wanna go back to the Rising Stones? We have proper tables and-”

“No.” Nero’s rejection was quick and harsh, eyes only softening for a moment as his hand brushed Cid’s gently while he reached back without looking, “No, I think better in the workshop. Pull up a chair. Garlond I need that pen!”

“It’s by your bloody elbow.” Pretending to be disinterested didn’t stop Cid from butting in now and then to suggest insults and phrases. “If he liked Hero’s last letter to him what’s the bother in letting him speak his mind?”

“His Radiance may not be as charmed.” Nero snorted softly.

“I’m not writing to the Emperor, I’m writing to Zenos. If he’s my soulmate then he’d even find me charming when I’m being snarky.”

“Be that as it may, keep in mind that others may get their hands on it. Write as if everyone will read it. Garlean politics is the proverbial viper’s nest, and Varis has ways of learning things he shouldn’t know. Spies in every corner, assassins around every bend. You’ll need your wits about you to survive in Zenos’ world if you truly intend to be his intended.”

“I’m still not sure if I want to be. I’ve asked around about him and I’ve heard some terrifying stories.” The Miqo’te’s ears folded slightly as he thought about the soldier he’d loosened up with liquor. “Bloodthirsty, ruthless, unforgiving, and those are the good things they had to say.”

“What do you think the same soldiers would say of you? The Eikon Slayer. God killer. You’ve carved a bloody path through armies singing merry little tunes and strumming a harp strung tight enough to put arrows through magitek armor. You’re a god of death to them, Zenos is much the same.” Nero watched the words register in Hero’s head, the gears clicking quietly. “Well?”

“I think I owe my entire Castrum either a drink or a round of cupcakes, maybe both.”

“Speaking of, I expect carrot cake cupcakes in return for this. Half a dozen, with the hand-whipped buttercream frosting you make. Unless you’d rather escort me ‘round the more dangerous parts of Azys Lla-”

“Cupcakes! I can do cupcakes!” Hero’s smile grew tight, eyes showing the terror within. “I will gladly make you cupcakes please never drag me to that monster-infested hellhole again unless Tiamat decides to finally leave her prison and specifically asks for me. That is the only way you are getting me back there without tranquilizers and a burlap sack to stuff me in.” The whole incident with the Warring Triad and learning that the Ixal were discarded Allagan creations had left a foul taste in Hero’s mouth. He was oft heard mumbling that the three A’s of everything that went wrong in his life were Aether, Ascians, and Allagans…

Alphinaud was an occasional fourth member of the list. Only when Hero was upset with him though.

“Pity, I was hoping for an escort to help brute force my way through some more labs, ah well. Back to the matter at hand.” 

It was late before Hero left the workshop for the Rising Stones again, determined to find a way to bridge the gap between himself and Zenos sooner so he could meet the man instead of hearing stories whispered by frightened soldiers behind their boss’ back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the fun part, figuring out soulmate pairs for some of our favorite characters. In true self-indulgent fashion I'm basically pairing off some of my favorite ships. Cid/Nero, Varis/Regula, Asahi/Dumpster Fire- no wait I gave him an actual (unnamed) person. Nevermind.
> 
> This fic has already exceeded the scope of what I wanted it to be which was "Zenos finds out the WoL is his soulmate and sends him an Army because he can." I have no idea what's coming next on this crazy train, but thank you all for sticking with me so far. <3


	4. New Tutors and Insomnia Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me Tribunus, you are fluent in both Hingan and Garlean, correct?”
> 
> “Of course my Lord, the Empire’s schooling is second to none and-”
> 
> “Stop."
> 
> Or
> 
> Hero Bakes Insomnia Cookies and Zenos Sends Asahi to Castrum Centri

“To my Pretentious Prick,” The letter had been on his bedside this morning, written in surprisingly fluent Garlean in a handwriting unlike the Hingan letter he’d gotten before, for a moment Zenos wondered if Hero had used his gift to full benefit. “This letter might seem a touch less personal, I didn’t want to be too explicit while I dictated this letter, for the record he disagrees with me referring to you as my Pretentious Prick.” That explained it, there were rumors that Garlond’s son had defected to Eorzea, the two must have enough contact for Hero to rely on him for an informal missive. “I did appreciate the gifts though, that pelt is so massive I think I could get an entire outfit from it. The fletching kit was a nice touch as well, how many reports did you have to read to figure out I used a bow? As for the dictionary- it took me six bloody hours to translate your letter. It was only while writing this one I remembered I had friends I could use to cheat. Odds are you’re getting the next letter in Hingan again. I know you researched me, but in case you thought I was slacking, I have been asking around about you as well.”

That felt ominous almost, who had he asked? The soldiers at his Castrum? Had he even visited his Castrum yet? “I want to meet you in person before I pass judgement though, so far all I know is second hand stories about you crushing the Doman Rebellion bare handed and rumors whispered by subordinates. I know the rumors about me cannot be any more cheerful than the ones about you. Still, I want to hear what you think of yourself. Love, Hero Hikara.” Even if it wasn’t all good news, the letter had left Zenos in rather high spirits, which was good for the Tribunus his father had sent to keep an eye on him. It meant he was allowed to live long enough to report in properly.

To say Zenos was underwhelmed would be an understatement. Usually when his father snuck a spy into his immediate ranks it was more subtle. This lacked his usual tactical grace, and this spy lacked any semblance of charm. This was a message, a reminder to behave himself or else it would take that much longer to meet his soul mate. The fool was blathering on about honor and privilege, but of course it had to all be a lie. No one ever felt honored to be his assigned babysitter, namely because few of them survived the first week before being sent back to his father in a box. “I tire of your prattling, get to the point already.”

“Ah- yes, of course my Lord. I was just hoping you recognized me, you saved my life once, and I want to repay the favor by being your trusted right hand.” That did get his attention, rare were the times someone could part ways with him and retain good memories of the meetings. He regarded the spy once more, Doman, high ranking.

On second thought, this one might have more uses to him. “Tell me Tribunus, you are fluent in both Hingan and Garlean, correct?”

“Of course my Lord, the Empire’s schooling is second to none and-”

“Stop. I do have a task for you, one suited to your unique background and skill set.” The plan was forming in his head already, if he killed this spy his father would simply send another one. However, if he reassigned Asahi to tutor his soulmate, perhaps Varis would consider that intelligence good enough to allow Zenos to function without a babysitter. “My Soulmate is not fortunate enough to have your schooling, so you will teach him. You will go to Castrum Centri in my stead and you will make sure that by the time the Eikon Slayer and I meet, he will be fluent in Garlean language and politics. Have I made myself clear?”

The flicker of emotions that passed over the spy’s face did not go unnoticed. Shock, betrayal, and finally a false smile of acceptance. “Of course my Lord, anything you command.” He couldn’t keep the defeat out of his voice, but that was of no consequence to Zenos. If the spy tried to assassinate his soulmate then it would simply be another test. If his Hero could not repel such a sniveling creature then he was not fit to be Prince Reagent.

“Then go, tell the pilot your orders and send a report to both myself and my father once you’ve arrived.” That was a flinch, did this Tribunus really think Zenos couldn’t see through him?

“Yes my Lord, right away.” The spy fled like a whipped dog, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. Just before lunch too, good. That would give him time to draft up another letter to Hero. One that would hopefully get to him shortly before Asahi did so he could explain the worm’s presence. Perhaps Hero would be much like him and prefer to ship the Tribunus back to him in a box.

He could only hope.

* * *

 

“I know you said Slafborn managed to quell the anger towards us after the incident but I still get the odd glare when I walk through the tavern.” Hero took a seat at one of the round tables, clicking his heel against the stone floor while Alphinaud read through the reports he’d gotten from the Alliance.

“To be fair, an army marched on the town just to pledge their allegiance to you. Give them time and perhaps they’ll welcome the lack of Garlean hostility on the border.” The young diplomat was armed with quill and no fewer than three ink pots as he tried to form letters to each Alliance leader. “Ishgard wants it to be known you are still their friend, the house of Lords and Commons alike stand by you after all you’ve done for them and believe your soulmate has no bearing on who you are as a person.”

“That’s a nice way to phrase that half of them think I’m too dense to have realized my soulmate was a Crown Prince and the other half figure a political marriage will keep Ishgardian soldiers at home so they can repair their nation instead of get tangled up in another war. Next?”

“The Twin Adders want to be clear that anything you do for them will not be associated with military action on behalf of Garlemald.”

Hero gave an inward groan as he slumped forward to bury his face in his arms on the table. “I understand that my status as a Serpent Captain may conflict with my apparent status as Fiance to the Garlean Crown Prince. Let them know at this time I consider myself Eorzean. Until such time as a formal marriage ceremony has been performed.” Hero paused for a moment, unable to find the words, “Shit- what’s a good way to phrase it?”

“Until you have been wed your duty to Eorzea and therefore the Twin Adders comes first.” Alphinaud gave a soft sigh as he continued to write in silence, “I wish you would have told one of us sooner, if we had known, if we could have prepared for this-”

“You would have deemed me a risk and never made me your champion in the first place. I knew the name was Garlean, that’s why I hid it. No one even asked questions because your soulmate is supposed to be a personal thing, private, special. The more famous I got as the Warrior of Light, the less I looked at my wrist. I told you, I didn’t know who or how important my soulmate was. After every battle against the Garleans I’d check my wrist just to make sure I hadn’t accidently killed them myself. Knowing who it is takes a lot of stress of my shoulders, but now it’s been replaced by something worse. Knowing half my friends will never trust me again.”

For a moment the scratching of Alphinaud’s quill stopped, replaced by a deafening silence as the teen struggled to find words to fill the void, and eventually gave up. His eyes falling back to the paper again as he finished his fifth letter reassuring yet another leader that the Scions were not part of Garlemald’s plan to invade Eorzea. “I’m sorry.” The words finally came out as a whisper, even Hero’s ears barely picked up on them, but instead of frowning the Miqo’te smiled softly.

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault, it’s all mine.” His head turned towards the door before Alphinaud’s eyes left his parchment, judging from the heavy steps on the stone floor it was another soldier, a messenger again. He stood to open the door for them with a warm smile, wondering what the hell it could be this time. “Yes?”

“A missive for you, Lord Hikara.” The soldier saluted like usual before handing off a plain envelope this time, no package. “From Lord Zenos.”

“I figured as much, oh- hey can you do me a favor? I know I haven’t been by yet to do an inspection or whatever, honestly I wouldn’t know what to look for? But I decided to make a huge batch of cookies…” Decided was a nice way to phrase it, Hero had another restless night, his insomnia kicking into overdrive while he tried to sleep in his apartment. He’d wound up at the Flying Chocobo instead, in the middle of the night; by the time Jacque found him sleeping on the chair next to the fireplace Hero had baked enough cookies to feed his entire Castrum.

“Cookies, my Lord?”

“Yes- half Chocolate chip and half Snickerdoodle… Cinnamon.” He didn’t even have to see the man’s face to know there was some confusion there. “Snickerdoodles are vanilla and sugar cookies dusted with cinnamon, soldier. In case anyone asks when you bring the packages back. I’ve got them boxed up all nice so if you don’t mind? Oh- and I think I’ll try to do the tour either tonight or tomorrow so if I don’t show up tonight send someone tomorrow to make sure I’m coming, alright?”

By the time he came back Alphinaud had a small half-smile on his face, “You never change you know.”

“What does that mean?”

“If anyone thought that being engaged to the Garlean crown prince would change you? All they need to do is catch you in the kitchen, or at your shop, or even here with me. You refuse to let your soulmate define you, and I appreciate that. It makes me feel better about telling the Alliance that you are still dedicated to the cause and nothing has changed except now you know who your soulmate is.”

“Gods, Alphinaud please.” Hero could feel his cheeks heating up, “I swear you are the worst little brother. Okay, what’s the next one, come on. You wanted me to help you draft up your explanations and apologies. Here I am.” Between the pair of them the rest of the letters came easy. Especially when Hero would be able to prove that there was no middle name on his wrist, allowing him to make such a massive error in judgement. He had no way to know Zenos was a prince, and if they had a problem with Garleans then why was everyone so reliant on Cid? It was enough to stave off any knee-jerk reactions while the scions decided how best to handle Hero being in charge of Castrum Centri.

“Perhaps we should go with you on the tour, so you aren’t there alone, it would be harder for them to ambush you with a larger presence.” By the time the last letter had been drafted, Alisaie had joined them, along with Thancred and Hoary Boulder. “Although I wouldn’t know what to do on an inspection tour.” The red mage tilted her head as she considered, “Thancred?”

“I’ve seen the inside of several Castrums, just not properly. I could tell you the weak points if need be, but only from the perspective of an enemy spy and honestly? I’d rather not give away my trade secrets.” The rogue chuckled softly at the snort Hero made in response.

“Alisaie’s probably got the right of it though. We’ll go with you.” The Roegadyn gestured wide to indicate himself, Ocher and Coultenet. “For backup of course, I know you could fight your own way out, but better to avoid a fight entirely, right?”

“Yeah.” Hero smiled softly, glad that the scions at least still stood by him. “You guys aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Hero thanks to you the Garleans have been keeping their distance from the city save the odd messenger. If you could convince them to help us tame the wildlands and expand the town more? People would love you.”

“I hadn’t considered that, I don’t know if I’d be allowed to order them around like that. Could I?”

“Twelve preserve, Hero your soulmate gifted you a literal army and you’re just now realizing you have the power to order them about?” Alphinaud shot him a look halfway between pained and incredulous.

“I don’t know how much power I have over them! Or what the rules are, or any of that. I’m not Garlean, I don’t know how their military works.”

“Perhaps that should be your first question then. What orders will they follow?” Alisaie couldn’t keep the smirk off her face, Hero’s status as a disaster was largely kept quiet from the public. No one had to know he was anything less than confident off the battlefield. “It’s settled then. When you go to your Castrum you’ll have a select retinue to ask your questions and keep you from being isolated.”

“I still wish I had someone who knew how to properly inspect a Castrum with me, but I guess I’ll have to just write down everything and send it to Zenos asking if that’s how it’s supposed to be? Either way, let’s take care of it tomorrow, once Alphie’s had the chance to tell the Alliance I’m still on their side.”

“Agreed.” The young Diplomat yawned softly, “What time is it?”

“Half past ten bells.” Coultenet replied without looking up from his book, “Give or take. You two have been there for five solid bells working on your letters. I believe it’s high time you both get some sleep- especially you Hero. You ought to sleep here tonight.”

“What makes you think I haven’t slept?” Hero’s ears perked and his tail puffed in indignance, he got some sleep today after all.

“You gave the soldier six large boxes of cookies to carry back to the Castrum. You only bake like that when you can’t sleep.”

Hero glanced around at the others, looking for a friendly face that wasn’t going to argue with him over his sleeping patterns, finding himself wanting. “I- alright fine. I’ll sleep at my bunk here tonight, if only so you all can babysit me, apparently. Did I get a letter from Zenos?”

“No, not today, perhaps you’ll get it at the Castrum tomorrow.” Alphinaud chuckled softly, at least the letters had given Hero something to look forward to. Maybe by tomorrow they could start working on a plan to use Zenos’ gift-army for their own purposes.

If Hero actually got a decent night’s sleep for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I'm finally getting settled into my new home and working on my longer stories again. I'll try to keep this one and Hunting the Hunter going as often as I have muse. Thanks for sticking with me so long!

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I ship Hero with more than just Zenos, but I've been in a mood because of Shadowbringers. Give me Elezenos as a potential Trust Ally. I know it will never happen but I want more of our Dynamic/Rivalry with him in canon.


End file.
